


Inside

by ladyofthesilent



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 7x17, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 01:03:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofthesilent/pseuds/ladyofthesilent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7x17 speculation: Sam and Cas meet in the most unlikely of places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [remivel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/remivel/gifts).



> Some 7x17 speculation, focusing on Cas and Sam. A birthday present for remivel, who originally requested Sassy. Sorry for the lack of fluff. I honestly have no idea what happened here ...

__ “I don’t deserve to live,” he says.  _ _  
  
Castiel rarely talks, and Sam almost flinches at the sound. His voice is deeper than usual, rough and shaky from disuse. Sam waits for a while, staring at chapped lips, but nothing more comes out.  
  
Castiel doesn’t remember him. Sam knows as much. Ever since he’s made sure the angel’s not part of his hallucinations, he’s tried to figure out what happened to him and whether he remembers, but Castiel just stares. Mostly at the wall, sometimes out of the window, but what he really sees, Sam doesn’t know. The doctors say he’s suffering from retrograde amnesia, possibly a result of post-traumatic stress. One of the other patients told him he’s under constant observation since he tried to kill himself. When Sam asks him about it, Castiel keeps on staring.  
  
Sam secretly used to think that if he could hate someone, it would be Castiel. But now that he sees him every day, he feels nothing but pity and regret. Cas messed with Sam’s mind, no doubt about that, but it seems almost negligible now, compared to what he’s eventually done to himself. Sam might be hallucinating the devil, but at least he has the comfort of knowing that he’s still Sam Winchester, and that his brother is out there, waiting for him.   
  
Cas is not Cas anymore. He’s lost his wings, his powers, and ultimately, he’s lost his mind. At least that’s what Sam thinks until he sees the scars. Castiel’s body is covered in criss-crossing lines, some faint, others angry and red.   
  
“I cannot get out,” he whispers when Sam reaches out to touch a barely healed cut beneath his breastbone. “I tried, but they won’t let me.”  
  
He tries again two days later, with a plastic spoon he stole from the cafeteria. They lock him up after that. When he comes back, he’s drugged and back to staring. Sam addresses him after group therapy, but Castiel looks right through him.  
  


Sam’s been calling Dean every three nights, ever since he came to St. Augusta’s. It’s part of the deal, and so far, Sam thinks Dean is starting to accept his choice. Dean’s still skeptic, but even at his most sarcastic, he cannot deny that the therapy and meds are working out for his brother. Sometimes, he even seems genuinely amused when Sam shares the latest nuthouse gossip. He likes to talk about the other patients and the staff. Sometimes, he even talks about Nancy, the red-haired violinist that comes to visit her schizophrenic brother Terry every Tuesday. Nancy always stops to chat for a little while, and lately, they’ve started joking about going out if it weren’t for Sam wearing a straitjacket. The story made Dean laugh.  
  
But Sam never talks about Castiel. In the beginning, he believed it was for the better, with himself being off the rocker, the Leviathans on the run, and Dean still busy blaming Cas. Later, he discovered it was because he’d secretly hoped Cas would get better, then he’d call Dean, they’d hug, and all would be forgiven. Now that Sam is improving with each passing day, he cannot help but realize that Cas is slipping away. It’s a slow process, but steady and relentless, like a boat drifting out to sea.  
  
  
They are in the garden when Lucifer comes back to visit. It’s spring and Sam is outside, reading TC Boyle when he sees him striding past the flower beds. He stops behind the bougainvillea bushes and glances over to Sam, smiling.  
  
“Long time no see,” he says. “I missed you.”  
  
Sam drops the book and falls to his knees, eyes wide with shock.   
  
“Time to come back with me,” Lucifer announces cheerfully. “You know, if you want company, feel free to ask my brother. I could help him, carve the flesh from his bones until he’s free of that confining body.”  
  
He sneers, and it’s the most gruesome thing Sam has ever seen. He wants to scream, for help, for Dean, for one of the nurses, but when a body catches him, he finds it doesn’t belong to any of them. Castiel’s skin is warm from the sun, and he smells of earth and sweat, like he’s been working in the garden. He probably has, Sam realizes, remembering it’s part of the therapy for some. His arms encircle Sam’s shaking form, shielding him from Lucifer’s malevolent gaze. One of his dirty hands presses Sam’s face to his shoulder, and his lips brush against his ear while he tells him to look away. It’s comforting, yes, but still so much more than that. Castiel’s presence cannot drag him out, like Dean could, but he stays with him nonetheless, sharing his fear and desperation.  
  
“I pray, you know,” he says calmly. “I pray every night for him to come and take me instead, but he doesn’t answer.”  
  
Sam cannot figure out whom he’s talking about. Whether it’s him, or Jimmy, or the Leviathan. It doesn’t matter. He clings to Castiel’s skinny frame and presses his face into the crook of his neck, trying to regain his breath while Lucifer watches them from across the flower beds, howling with laughter.  
  
“I am sorry this is the only thing I can give you,” Cas whispers, hugging him even tighter.   
  
  
That night, Sam finally calls Dean.


End file.
